


When The Moon Gets Tired

by ThatGirlTheyKnow



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Could be Fluff?, F/M, Undefined timeline but before LSODM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlTheyKnow/pseuds/ThatGirlTheyKnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There’s a disruption in the air, and two thin, gloved hands rest on her shoulders. They squeeze, a gentle reminder that she is not fighting this war alone. It’s her only comfort when the voice inside her head makes her believe things that aren’t real."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Moon Gets Tired

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from "Every Thug Needs A Lady" by Alkaline Trio. I own nothing except the idea. Also, I haven't written for this fandom in YEARS, so lets see how this goes.

 

 

_I know it’s dark here, you know that I’m scared too_   
_For some reason right now, of everything but you_   
_Right now you’re all that I recognize_   
_You know I came here when I needed your soft voice_   
_I needed to hear something that sounded like an answer_   
_Now I wait here, and sometimes I get one_

_It’s nothing I’ll forget when the moon gets tired_  
You are stuck to me everyday   
_Believe in what I am because it’s all I have today_   
_And tomorrow who knows where we’ll be_   
_From here I can hardly see a thing_   
_But I will follow anyone who brings me to you_   
_For now, forever, for on and on and on_

|o|o|o| _  
_

Valkyrie is curled up under two blankets in front of a crackling fire. She is shivering. There is a coldness creeping through her veins, through her bones, weaving its way through her body. She is scared.

_Stop fighting me._

Valkyrie bits her lip so hard she tastes blood, squeezes her eyes shut.

There’s a disruption in the air, and two thin, gloved hands rest on her shoulders. They squeeze, a gentle reminder that she is not fighting this war alone. It’s her only comfort when the voice inside her head makes her believe things that aren’t real.

Yesterday, she woke up thinking she was pregnant, and screamed and screamed out of fear for her baby’s safety –  _where’s my baby, why can’t I feel my baby what’s happening please help my baby_ while - Skulduggery held her with strong arms and whispered in her ear and stroked her knotted hair out with his fingers.

The day before, Skulduggery left her bedroom to get her food and when he came back, she was prepared to throw herself out of window because she was so sure that Skulduggery had left her for good, that he was sick of her, that he didn’t care anymore, that she was all alone.

Last week Skulduggery had moved too fast and the voice screamed that she was under attack, and the little magic she had left flared out and fire and shadows ripped half the kitchen apart.

Tonight, she sighs as Skulduggery brushes his hand against a sigil scarred into her neck and warmth floods through her, and the terrible ache and exhaustion in her body lessens.

The day China took the delicate knife to her delicate skin was the last time she had seen a person who had flesh and blood and bone and warmth. She doesn’t miss it as much as she expected.

“Oh, Valkyrie,” Skulduggery says, and he moves, his clothes rustling quietly, so he is crouching his front of her. His voice is low and sad and he grips her hands and murmurs her name over and over as if to reassure her of who she is.

She never said she needed reassuring, but it takes a slight weight off her shoulders. She is Valkyrie. Against all odds, she is Valkyrie. She takes a deep breath and lets the blankets slide off her. Skulduggery stands, and his hand cups her face. She can sense him looking at her, can feel the intensity behind his gaze, and stares up at him in return.

He picks up her bridal style and she tucks her face into his shoulder.

“I love you,” she mumbles.

_Are you even capable of love?_

She feels each step as Skulduggery carries her up to her room, humming quietly as though she is a child to be put to sleep. But he wouldn’t put her to sleep, because he knows, he understands that dreams are almost as hard as waking.

“I wish you could be in my dreams, too,” she tells him as he tucks her into bed. Sometimes she feels like a child when Skulduggery looks after her, but she remembers the alternative is being left to look after herself, and she keeps quiet.

She doesn’t have the energy to fight back anymore, be independent. It’s her against Darquesse, and if all of her energy isn’t on that, then everything would be for nothing.

It makes Skulduggery sad, though. She knows he misses the way she used to be. She thanks God every day that he stays with her despite it.

She would be nothing without this man. She would be a tiny voice, a small buzz in the back of a mind capable of killing thousands with a thought.

“I love you,” she says as he settles down beside her, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close so they were chest to chest. She can feel his every rib. She places her hand over where his heart would be, and imagines she feels warmth and the steady  _thump_. Her own heart races, and she knows he can feel it.

“Go to sleep,” Skulduggery says lightly. “You’re delirious again.”

Valkyrie laughs weakly, her head moving back slightly. Cold teeth press against her bare neck and she shivers.

 Skulduggery never tells her he is in love with her. He’s ashamed of it, Valkyrie thinks, like he was so sure he was better than falling for his student and best friend, falling for a young girl with such a dark secret. He doesn’t want to admit it, and it hurts, it breaks her heart every day when her “I love yous” are left unanswered. Sometimes she thinks she needs to hear it, sometimes she claws at her chest because she loves the skeleton so much it’s as though she’s bleeding.

_He doesn’t even have a heart, how could he love you?_

But there is only love in the way Skulduggery runs his hands up and down her back, pulling her in impossibly tight. She gasps, and her hand reaches a sigil on his collarbone, and skin flows over his skull. This isn’t the face he was born with, he told her when he first showed it to her, but there are resemblances, and it’s here to stay. She kisses him deeply and desperately. She loves his face, loves that she can kiss him and show affection in such a human way, but her touch touches the sigil again because to her the skull is his real face, and what she fell in love with.

_Pathetic._

She continues to press kisses to his teeth, his cheekbones, his forehead. Tears fall down her cheeks and she doesn’t remember when they started. She realises she is shaking, and breathes deeply. If she gets too carried away, the voice will turn from a murmur to a shout and tell her those terrible, terrible lies that she can’t help but believe.

 “I love you,” she says when the tears dry up and she stops kissing him, when his hands slow their movement on her back. He shakes, too. The tiredness she has been keeping at bay washes through her, the relief from the sigil on her neck fading away.

“Be strong, sweet,” Skulduggery says as her eyes droop shut. Sleep is coming, she thinks through the tired haze, and nightmares are coming with it. Terrible things she has to live through.

 That velvet voice talks to her, but she can’t comprehend most of the words.

 All she hears is her name, and important words spoken with unshakeable conviction.

———


End file.
